I found teachers to be my most favorite debating partners.  Ad-hoc debating does not require any preparation, just a set of "cojones" (pronounced co-ho-nes).  On March 12, 1959, my "cojones" got me into a situation that would prove to be a major turning point in my life.

A new school rule, mandating that all "cafeteria served food must be eaten" had just gone into effect.  To make matters worse, spinach was "the feces du jour" on that day.  I went to dispose of my lunch tray.  Mrs. Bowen, self appointed lunchroom monitor and head of the school crossing guards, marched me back to my seat to finish my uneaten mulch,   I told her that no way, no how, was I wasn't going to eat that crap and that I was prepared to sit there, all day if necessary.  I had drawn the line in the sand.

Kommandant Bowen accepted the challenge.  She was not about to let a third grade snot nose like me countermand her authority.  Seconds later, she pinched my cheeks and was force feeding spinach into my mouth.  I fought hard but this bitch was too strong.  The spinach filled my mouth.  But as Bowen was reloading the fork with more spinach, I stood up and spit the green slime all over the front of her white dress.  If that wasn't bad enough, I spewed forth a verbal barrage of obscenities that would rival any longshoreman.  It was then, this Nazi bitch grabbed me by the back of my neck and dragged me to the principal's office.  I knew my parents would be called in on this one.

My parents arrived at the office and if looks could kill... I was one dead kid.  Minutes passed like hours.  I was straining my ears to hear what's going on behind those closed doors .  Suddenly I heard my dad say "he said WHAT!   Get him in here!"   The door to the principals office opened and I sheepishly walked in.  I had no idea what lies were told about this incident.  But what I knew for certain was that there was fire in my dad's eyes.  Fortunately, my mom had the good sense to ask me for side of the story."

I then went into graphic detail describing how Ms. Bowen forced spinach into my mouth.  Truly one of my better performances, the fake tears arrived right on cue.  Even the Principle looked a bit surprised.  I showed my mom where my tongue was cut during the incident and the school nurse was brought in to attest to the fact that I had sustained a minor oral injury.  Bowen looked flushed.  And in the blink of an eye, my mom, 5' 2" Bea Browne, hauled off and gave Bowen a right cross that would have rivaled any professional boxer.  The Principal then grabbed Bowen while my dad held back my mom.   What a sight to see... a true Kodak moment.

Lots of threats of arrest and legal action were being bandied but in the end calm heads prevailed.  For my gross indiscretion, I got suspended from school for using "foul and abusive language."   But to my surprise, this diminutive third grader was now a folk hero at Oak Grove Elementary.  For in the school's 2 year history, I go on record as being the first (as well as youngest) student to be suspended.  Plus I was now some sort of a cult hero.  I was the kid whose mom "took out" old lady Bowen.